The Art of Being Subtle
by Skippy-the-Rabbit
Summary: Teddy and Victoire think they’re being so subtle with their "secret" relationship, but they don’t realise that the rest of world seems to have noticed what's going on. A series of short one-shots, which can be read individually or collectively.
1. Dominique

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Shortish drabble type things . . . probably around fifteen in total, give or take. Teddy and Victoire think they're being so subtle with their "secret" relationship, but they don't realise that the rest of world seems to have noticed them. Hopefully, I'll get to upload a chapter a day :)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter One – Dominique**

* * *

_Gryffindor Seventh Year Boys Dormitories – 7th July – 7:32pm_

"I'd better go . . . we don't want people getting suspicious, do we?" Victoire asked, unwilling to tear herself away from her boyfriend.

"Do you have to?" Ted asked, punctuating his words with kisses.

"No, I really don't want to," Victoire said, sitting upright and straightening her blouse. "But if we don't want people finding out, we've got to be . . . what's the opposite of suspicious?" She combed her fingers through her hair so it was less rumpled, and reapplied lip gloss to her swollen lips.

"Normal?" Teddy suggested, wiping his girlfriend's lip gloss off his face. "We've got to be like we always were . . . I mean, if anyone was to find out, we'd never hear the end of it."

"Yeah, it's best to keep it quiet," Victoire agreed. "You still have lip gloss on your nose. How do I look?"

"Hot," Teddy replied, removing the gloss. "No, seriously, you look fine. Come on, I'll walk you back to the Ravenclaw Common Room."

They came down the stairs together, chatting aimlessly. "Victoire? Ted? What've you guys been doing?" Dominique, Victoire's fourth year Gryffindor sister gawped at the pair of them as they came down the stairs. Her eyebrows were climbing steadily up her face.

"God, Dom, you've got such a dirty mind," Victoire said, loading her voice with scorn. "Ted was just giving me his Potions and Herbology notes so that I can use them next year. I'll still have mine, of course, but it'll be useful to have them so I can read up on the next lesson. I'll be able to stay ahead and—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dominique said, dismissing her comments with a wave of her hand. "God, you guys are such nerds. Anyone else would be up there having, like, a total snogging session, but you two are exchanging notes. Honestly. By the way, can I borrow your red top for the graduation party?"

"How did you get an invite? It's only supposed to be for the older students, isn't it?" Victoire asked.

"Um, it's being held in the Gryffindor Common Room this year, dummy," Dominique replied. "And can I have it? The top, I mean?"

"If you really must," she said.

"Thanks, Vic, you're the best!" Dominique cried, shooting up the stairs. "I'll come and get it off you at some point soon!"

Victoire and Teddy glanced at each other, once she had gone. "That was _so close_," said Victoire.

"Too close," agreed Teddy.

"Well, I didn't see you trying to talk your way out of it with a reasonable argument!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," he grimaced. "I'll try harder next time. But you handled the whole thing pretty well by yourself."

"Thanks," she said. "Do you think she suspects anything?"

"Nah, no chance," Ted said, as they made their way over to the Portrait Hole. "Your acting skills were pretty good, for once."

She rolled her eyes at him, and they made their way over to the Ravenclaw Common Room together.

* * *

"Oh, my God," Dominique said, throwing her shoes under the bed.

"What is it?" her friend and Dorm mate Alicia Waters asked, emerging from the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel turban.

"My sister and Teddy Lupin," Dominique said, falling on to the bed dramatically.

"Did they finally start going out?" Alicia asked, searching for a comb.

"I _think_ so," said Dominique, throwing her one over from her own chest of drawers. "I came across them coming down from the boys Dorms together—"

"Oo-er!" Alicia said, combing through her hair.

"I know, right? So I asked them what they'd been up to, and she spun me some nonsense about Potions notes or something," she said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, how thick do they think I am?"

"We-ell," teased Alicia.

"Oh, thanks!" said Dominique.

"Anyway, are they officially going out now?" she asked, dodging the nail file that had been thrown at her.

"They're not admitting it," said Dominique. "I reckon that they'll try and keep it secret – but I bet you someone'll have spilled the beans by the end of the summer."

"Oh, definitely," agreed Alicia. "Oh, my God, did I tell you that Aiden Karvaski was so flirting with me in Divination today?"

"Oh, my God – no! Tell me everything!" commanded Dominique, momentarily forgetting about her older sister.

* * *

**A/N:** Please review :)


	2. Molly II

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**

* * *

****The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Two – Molly II**

* * *

_Hogwarts' Library – 9th July – 17:44 pm_

"Come on," Teddy whispered. Now that the exams were over, and it was nearly the summer holidays, there were barely any students in the library, so any noise travelled clearly, and Madame Pince (the ancient librarian, who had been there since their parents had been at school, for Merlin's sake!) seemed to revel in throwing students out of her domain for such crimes as breathing too loudly. "You've finished all that Charms now, we'll do Transfiguration tomorrow. Let's go and have dinner – I'm starving!"

"OK," Victoire whispered back. "Just let me finish this question – it's the last bit, and then I can tick off another subject."

"What've we done already?" asked Ted.

"Um, Ancient Runes, Charms and Potions," she replied. "And that leaves Transfiguration, which we can do tomorrow; History of Magic – but I do half an hour or so of that every night before I go to bed, and I reckon I'll have that finished within the next two or three days and Herbology, but I might leave that one, 'cause it's fairly straightforward and I doubt one set of homework'll impinge too much on my summer holiday."

"I guess," Ted said. "But we should try and get it done if possible. After all, the less time you have to spend doing your holiday homework, the more time you can spend with me, which was the whole point of spending the nicest days of the year inside this stuffy old dump."

"Of course it was, and I love you for it," Victoire said, pecking her boyfriend on the lips. It wasn't cheating to get Ted's help on her holiday homework (not that she couldn't have done it herself. It was just quicker to get someone else to do it with her – with her, not for her – it was nothing to do with making it easier). Really, it wasn't cheating. And anyway it was all for a good cause in the end – she needed to spend the summer earning money to help pay for medical school, where she would be spending the seven years of her life after graduating from Hogwarts, and if she got all her homework out of the way before the holidays began, she'd have more time to spend working and earning money.

And, you know, more time to spend with her boyfriend.

But that was more of an extra, added bonus. It wasn't her main reason for doing it.

Much.

"Yeah, well, you'd better repay me," Teddy teased, pretending to threaten her.

"Oh, I'm sure I—"

"Out! Now! The both of you!" Madame Pince shrieked at the pair of them, and they both jumped guiltily. "This is a library, not a Common Room, and you've both spent the last hour nattering away to each other! I'm sick of it! Both of you out, now!"

They made a hasty exit, Victoire frantically stuffing papers and books into her satchel. "Phew, we escaped alive," she joked, as the door swung shut behind them.

"It was touch-and-go there for a moment," Teddy said seriously. "I wonder what got her knickers in such a twist all of a sudden?" he mused.

"I reckon she heard you insulting her precious library – I believe words you used were 'old' 'dump and 'stuffy'," Victoire replied. "Rearrange as you will."

"Mmm, that _might_ have had something to do with it," he agreed. His stomach growled loudly and they both laughed.

"Dinner time!" exclaimed Victoire.

"Most definitely," Teddy nodded. "I'll go on down to the hall, and you come down once you've dumped your stuff in your Dorm." She pouted. "No suspicion," he reminded her. "If we want this to remain unnoticed by everyone, we've got to act completely normally, which doesn't involve walking into the Great Hall holding hands."

She sighed. "You're right . . ."

"Of course I am," he said. He kissed her lightly on the mouth, and set off down the corridor, in the direction of the Hall. She went off in the opposite direction, twirling down the corridor, smiling and dancing and praying that no one saw her. She couldn't remember being this happy. Going out with Ted made her so . . . joyful. And the whole secretive element made it extra special – their own little secret that no one else knew about. And soon, she'd have a whole summer with him. Just the two of them . . .

"Here comes summer . . . school is out, oh happy day . . . here comes summer . . . gonna grab my guy and run away . . ." she sang.

"Victoire Weasley?"

She jumped slightly guility, and saw her younger-by-one-year cousin, Molly, gawping at her. "Hey, Mol," she grinned. "How're you?"

"I'm . . . good," she replied, raising her eyebrows at her . . . giggly cousin? How had that happened? "How are you?"

"I'm great, thanks!" Victoire beamed.

"Are you high, or something?" Molly asked, and Victoire laughed.

"No, silly! What gave you that idea?" she asked.

"Um . . . the fact that you're practically bouncing off the walls. And the fact that you were singing – I thought we'd banned you from doing that last time you ended up breaking the windows?"

"Ha ha," she said. "Can't a girl be happy that the exams are over and it's nearly the summer holidays and all that? And anyway, I'm not normally a manic depressive, am I?"

"You're not . . ." Molly agreed. "But this is like you've been sniffing something, or something. "What've you done with the real Vic?"

"_Stupefyed_ and locked in the wardrobe," she joked.

"Fair enough," Molly responded, contenting herself with just shaking her head in wonder at her cousin's antics. "By the way - I saw you in the library with Ted. What were you up to?"

"Oh . . . er . . . just my holiday homework! I want to get it done already, so I can have a free summer. Anyway, I have to go, Mol. Speak to you soon, yeah?" Before Molly could even respond, Victoire had rushed off down the corridor, humming tunelessly to herself again.

Molly blinked after her. "_What_ was _that_?" she mused to herself.

"What?" a voice asked in her ear. "What was what?"

"Ah!" she jumped in surprise, before recognising her boyfriend, Evan Wood. "Oh, it's you," she stuck her lounge out at him. "Hello. The weirdest thing just happened. I was with Victoire, and she was being all giggly and girly and hyper, and then I asked her about what she and Ted were up to and she just gabbled something incomprehensible at me and . . . walked . . . off . . ." She trailed off on the last few words, stopping where she was, a look of dawning recognition spreading slowly across her face.

"What is it?" Evan asked.

"Oh . . . my . . . God," Molly crowed. "She's in love with Teddy! They must be dating or something . . . but they're pretending that they're not . . . or something. Aw! How sweet!"

"Ted and Vic, huh?" Evan asked.

"Oh, please, don't act like you hadn't noticed. Everyone's seen that one coming for years," Molly scoffed.

"I guess so," he responded. "Hah – we can tease them so much about this one!"

"Oh, no," said Molly. "They're obviously pretending that nothing's going on, so we should to. After all, Victoire didn't say anything to anyone about us at first, when she walked in on us in that classroom last year. So we'll keep her secret, too."

"I suppose . . ." Evan said, sounding vaguely disappointed.

"Mind you . . . in our family, it's not like it's going to remain secret for long," Molly said.

* * *

**A/N:** The song Vic sings is "Here Comes Summer" – an oldie by Jerry Keller (came out in Oct '59, so it's 50 this year, which I think qualifies it as old!) and obviously doesn't belong to me either. Review, please :)


	3. Neville

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed – I really appreciate the feedback (hint!) :)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Three – Neville**

* * *

_Grounds of Hogwarts – 10th July – 12.39pm_

"Give it back!" Victoire said, snatching for her book and pretending to pout at Ted.

"Oh no," he responded, shaking his head. "If you want it—" He leapt to his feet. "You'll have to come and get it!" He ran off, holding her novel high above his head and she quickly got up to follow him, shrieking with laughter and nearly steamrollering a gaggle of very alarmed looking first years.

"Don't even think about it Teddy Lupin!" she panted. They ran around the grounds, collecting bemused looks from various students, hollering and laughing at each other. Victoire went flying over a large tree root, but pulled herself to her feet and continued pursuing her boyfriend, chasing him round the back of the greenhouses.

"Ha! You've got no chance of catching me, Weasley! You've—oof!" He barrelled into a hard object, and knocked all the breath out of his body. He looked up, recognising the object straight away. "Oh, sorry, Professor Longbottom, sir!" He gasped out, panting heavily.

"That's quite alright, Mr. Lupin," said Neville, wondering what in Merlin's name had possessed one of the best students in the entire seventh year to careen around the field like a first year. Before he could quite compute what had gone on, a second figure whirled around the corner.

"Teddy Lupin! I am going to kill—er, hello, Professor!" Victoire Weasley – the very same calm, demure, Head-Girl-next-year-though-she-didn't-know-it-yet Victoire Weasley – stopped short, offering her teacher a sunny smile, and tried to act as though it was perfectly normal for a sixth year girl in kitten heels and a slightly too short to be regulation skirt to be caught chasing after one of the boys in the year above her, yelling murderous threats at him.

"Hello, Miss Weasley," Neville said, bemused. "Is this National Act Like A Four Year Old day, or have you two just gone temporarily insane because of the heat we've been having lately?"

"Well, the thing is Professor—"

"Because you see, he was—"

"But then I didn't mean to—"

"Of course, I had to—"

"And if she hadn't—"

"I see," said their teacher. "I have no idea what you two were up to, but I think it would behove you to start acting like adults once more. Miss Weasley, your skirt is far too short. Mr. Lupin, I believe the rules stipulate that _all _of the buttons on that shirt should be done up, and your tie should be around your neck, not stuffed in your pocket. Please, do try to set an example for the younger students, won't you? I'm sure you can run around your own back gardens as much as you want in a few days, so please try to control yourselves until then, won't you?"

"Yes, Professor," they mumbled together.

"Very good," he said, picking up the book. "I believe that this is yours, Miss Weasley. See you both at dinner!" He handed her the book and walked away, a twinkle in his eye.

"Bye, Sir!" Victoire called. She turned to Teddy. "That was all your fault, you know."

"My fault?! How?"

"If you hadn't ran off with my book . . ."

"But if you hadn't followed me . . ."

"Excuse me, but I was not the one who ran into Professor Longbottom . . ."

* * *

_The Leaky Cauldron, London – 10th July – 9:49pm_

"Oh, and you won't believe who I had to tell off for acting like five year olds today," Neville said, looking at his wife over a glass of wine.

"Who?" Hannah asked.

"Ted Lupin and Victoire Weasley," he replied.

"_Those_ two?" she asked.

"Yep," Neville said, nodding seriously. "They were chasing each other around the grounds – he'd taken her book or something. How ridiculous! Why in Merlin's name would they do that?"

Hannah blinked at him, like he was missing something obvious. "What?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"They were flirting with each other," she explained patiently.

"They were?"

"They were," she nodded. "But even you must have seen that one coming."

"What, those two?" he asked. "I suppose . . ."

"Oh please, they've been destined for each other since they were little kids," Hannah said. "Sometimes, you just _know _with people. Everyone just _knows_ that they'll get together. Except them, apparently." Neville chuckled. "What?" she asked.

"I wonder if Bill's worked it out yet?"

And they sat on the balcony overlooking the shabby pub garden, in the oppressive London heat and laughed and laughed.


	4. Roxanne

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Four – Roxanne**

* * *

_Gryffindor Common Room – 12th July – 1:22am_

The party had been going on for nearly six hours now, and it showed no signs of stopping. The Seventh Years were on all drunk, either alcohol or happiness at the thought of finally leaving school, and most of the Fifth and Sixth Years were somewhere along the infamous Hogwarts drunkenness scale from Slightly Tipsy to Completely Rat Arsed.

Roxanne sat on the sidelines and observed.

This was only the second Graduation Party she'd been to – the only other had been when she was in her first year, and she'd gone to bed at eight thirty – but it was following the same set of formulaic, unwritten rules that the rest of them had: that the teachers knew about what was going on, but, as long as no-one's behaviour was too raucous, they couldn't kick up a fuss; that the houses took it in turns to host the party and that it was open to fifth years and above (though, technically, there was nothing to stop the lower years attending when the party was being held in their Common Room, as Roxanne had done in her first year, the only other time the party had been held in the Gryffindor Common Room in her school lifetime).

It wasn't a very exciting party, that was for sure. Perhaps she was missing out on something because it wasn't _her_ graduation party and she still had two years left of school, but she'd enjoyed the party earlier in the year for Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup a whole lot more.

She'd danced with her cousins, and with her younger brother, Fred, just to embarrass him, but other than that, Roxanne Weasley had sat firmly on the edge, preferring to watch and analyse what was going on rather than participate in it.

Frankly, there wasn't much to analyse – the party itself was a pretty formulaic one. The graduating Seventh Years drank and danced the night away, squealing and hugging people they'd barely spoken to in the past seven years, but with whom they were now apparently unable to imagine a life without now that school was nearly over for good.

The sixth years hung around near them, but not with them, clearly envisaging their own leaving celebration in a year's time. The fifth years drank shots of firewhiskey and pretended that they liked it, so they could imagine that they, too, were old and grown up.

Her family were easy to analyse as well – Weasleys weren't very good at hiding their emotions. James (technically a Potter), Fred and Louis, Gryffindor Second Years, were slumped in a corner together – barely able to keep their eyes open, but unwilling to give up their cool image by going to bed early.

Fourth years Lucy and Dominique had experienced a slight anticlimax with the first proper party they had ever attended – they had expected it to be a grand event, but it had turned out to be girls in not very much clothing dancing with boys who looked exactly the same as they always did, in a Common Room rather lazily decorated with a few streamers and non-burstable balloons. However, they hadn't let this deter them, and had thrown themselves into dancing with as many guys as they could (though it was pretty obvious that the only guy Lucy was interested in was Jeremy Finnegan, who'd been dating that Ravenclaw Fifth Year for six months now, and that Dominique had her eye on that Hufflepuff with the blonde hair and the eyebrow piercing).

Molly had spent the whole night dancing with Evan Wood, her boyfriend, Roxanne noticed with a sense of smug satisfaction. Though the two of them were in their Fifth Year, Roxanne was a Gryffindor and Molly was a Ravenclaw, and throughout most of their first four years of school they had hung around in different social groups and consequently weren't that close. A shared meltdown over the OWL exams had lead to the pair of them becoming much closer, and now they were almost inseparable. Back in March, Molly had blushingly whispered to Roxanne that she had a tiny crush on Evan, one of Roxanne's friends, and she had (quite unsubtly) set them up together, something which had worked out quite well, she thought to herself, rather smugly.

She prided herself on being able to set people up and work out who was dating who, sometimes even before the couple themselves had realised it. She wasn't talented at Divination (she'd spent the past two years randomly making stuff up whenever she was asked a question, and was looking forward to dropping it next year . . . not that she really expected to get a good enough grade to carry on anyway), but she could spot a relationship a mile off.

Like Teddy and Victoire.

(Mind you, the pair of them were being so obvious that she wouldn't have been surprised if her _brother_ had worked it out already.)

Each of them had been consciously avoiding each other for most of the night – deliberately dancing with the entire cohort of Sixth and Seventh years but the other one, deliberately not talking to each other, or looking at each other, staying as far apart from each other whilst still being in the same room . . . until just now.

_Puh-lease_.

Who did they think they were kidding? Doing their goodbye rounds within thirty seconds of each other? It was _so obvious, _what they were really up to. Honestly. If she timed it right, she'd be able to see the pair of them sneaking around the Hogwarts grounds late at night. She glanced out of the window.

Well, OK, it was raining heavily. So they probably weren't outside. But she would put all her savings on the fact that, were she to trawl all the empty broom cupboards, disused classrooms and other clichéd locations within the school, she would find the pair of them playing tonsil tennis or whatever.

James, Fred and Louis were more secretive when they were planning an enormous prank to play on you. And the three of them could be read like a book. _Honestly_. Someone needed to teach the two of them a lesson in subtlety. Perhaps she should have a word with them and—

"Roxanne? Wanna dance?" Christopher Macmillan (hottie extraordinaire) smiled charmingly at her offered her his hand.

She took it, accepting his offer with a smile of her own, and pushed all thoughts of Teddy and Victoire from her mind.

Because really, who could think of what they were up to in the snogging department (which, frankly, was a bit blee) when she could be getting some snogging action of her own?

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews – I really appreciate them :) Hope you liked this chapter – I tried to do something a bit different. Let me know if you think it worked, won't you? :D


	5. James II

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Happy February :) Sorry for the long time between updates – I had an insanely busy week last week, and I had no time to write. But I got a snow day today (yay :D ) so I came home and wrote like crazy. Uh, I mean, came home and did my homework :P

**

* * *

**

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Five - James II**

* * *

_Hogwarts Express – 14th July – 1:08pm_

"I still can't believe that this is your last ever trip on the Hogwarts Express, you know," Victoire said. She was curled up next to Teddy, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her waist.

"I know," her boyfriend replied, looking out of the window as they sped through the countryside somewhere near Birmingham. "It's like, this is it: your childhood is over now. You've got to be a grown up from now on . . . no more messing around and having a laugh, it's all seriousness and grey suits from now until I retire."

"You make it sound such an attractive prospect," she laughed softly. There was a slight pause. "Are you scared?" she asked.

"Of what?" Teddy asked.

"Growing up. Getting a job. Living in the real world," she replied. "Take your pick."

"No . . . not really," he said, at length. "I mean, I love Hogwarts, truly I do, but it'll be nice to get out . . . start living life for real, as opposed to doing the whole 'get up at eight, have breakfast in the Great Hall, then Potions from nine until ten' and all that. It'll make things more . . . interesting, I think. Why? Are you scared?"

"Merlin, yes," she replied. "Why do you think I signed up for seven years in medical school? I want to stay in school - I can't face the real world. It's scary out there, you know?"

"Yeah, I do know," he said. "But I'm going to be fine – and so will you, next year. It's not as hard as you think. Well, I sure as hell hope it won't be." They both attempted a laugh, but neither of them quite managed it.

"I'm really going to miss you, next year," Victoire said, determined not to cry. She'd be doing enough of _that _when she had to leave him at the end of the summer.

"I'm going to miss you, too," Ted whispered. "You know . . . we should have figured this whole thing out a lot earlier. We could have had so much more fun."

Victoire gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah . . . we should have. But we're going to have a fun summer, right?"

"We-ell," drawled Ted, drawing out the word. "I guess that depends on what you mean by fun." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Why, what exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Lupin?" Victoire asked coquettishly, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Ooh, I don't know . . ." He shrugged. "Perhaps something like this?" He leaned in and kissed her.

"Mmm, no," Victoire pulled back after a while. "I personally think that fun would be something more like this . . ." She kissed him again.

It was Ted's turn to pull back. "Miss Weasley, I'm very sorry to break it to you, but I do think that you will be needing some practise at this fun business," he said seriously.

She pouted, trying not to giggle. "Oh? And who is going to help me practise?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know," Teddy pretended to think about it. "Possibly . . . myself?"

"Possibly," Victoire said, considering. She raised her eyebrows. "Personally, I think that – oof! What the hell? Ted?" He had shoved her off his lap and onto the floor of the train. She glared up at him. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Shut up!" he hissed. She opened her mouth angrily, but before she could say anything, a voice at the door piped up.

"Victoire? Ted? What's going on?" James Potter asked, staring curiously at the pair of them.

"Hello, James," Teddy said, smiling pleasantly at him. "How are you?"

"Er . . . fine, thanks," James answered, looking strangely at the pair of them still. "What's Vic doing on the floor?"

"Er, she . . . um . . . er . . ."

"I lost my earring," said Victoire, scrabbling around on the floor for the item.

"You've got both of them in your ears," pointed out James.

"Oh, I know – it wasn't these earrings that I lost – it was another set," she laughed rather manically. "From my . . . uh . . . bag. Where I keep my . . . uh . . . other earrings."

"Right," said James, utterly confused. "Um . . . yeah. I'll . . . uh . . . just be going, then," he said, still looking at them as though they were insane. "See you guys at the station."

He backed off slowly. "Bye!" Victoire called. She waited until he had disappeared from view, and looked sideways at her boyfriend. "Oh, my God," she said, leaning back against the seat of the train and closing her eyes in relief. "That was close."

"I know," Teddy agreed. "Talk about a close shave, right? If James found out, there'd be no keeping it from anyone. He's got a bigger mouth than Uncle Ron."

"I know," said Victoire. "A little warning would be nice, next time you're going to hurl me across the room like that, though," she glared at him.

"Sorry," he said. "It was instinct. Quick thinking. And I didn't hurl you across the room! I placed you gently on the floor."

"Gently?" she protested. "That wasn't—"

"It so was," he replied. "And anyway, what was with your absolutely appalling acting skills? 'Oh, I've lost an earring!' 'Oh, I've broken a nail!' 'Oh, my hair is out of place!'?" he put on a falsetto voice.

"Excuse _me_!" Victoire said, looking outraged. "At least my acting skills were actually present, Mr Um Er Um Er Um!"

"_Touché_," he replied. "Anyway, d'you reckon James suspects anything?"

"Nah," Victoire reassured him. "He's completely oblivious."

* * *

"Your sister," James announced, walking into the carriage he was sharing with Fred and Louis and pointing at the latter, "is completely insane. And so's Teddy."

"Huh?" asked Louis, looking up from a copy of _The Quibbler_. "What? Why?"

"They're both in one of the compartments back there, and they're both being really weird."

"Weird how?" Louis asked.

"Like, rolling around on the floor and being really kind of . . . uptight and secretive," James said.

Louis raised an eyebrow, and said with the air of one who has seen it all already, "Older sisters can be like that. I wouldn't worry too much."

"Yeah," said Fred, who had caught the latter part of their conversation as he walked into the compartment with a disgusted look on his face. "And at least they were just being weird, not like _my_ older sister."

"What's she doing?" James asked.

"Roxanne," Fred announced dramatically, "is _snogging_ Christopher Macmillan!"

"Ew!" said Louis.

"That's disgusting," said James.

"It is," Fred agreed, gravely. "Anyone want to play Exploding Snap?" The subject of the strange behaviour of elder sisters was left by the wayside as the three of them threw themselves into a very complex game, determined to use their last few hours of being able to do magic in a productive way.

By using a variety of jinxes, charms and hexes to cheat their way to a win.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks so much for all the reviews :) I really appreciate them! I've got another snow day tomorrow, so I'll hopefully update then, as well. See y'all soon! xx


	6. Percy

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Double hurrah for snow days and schools getting cancelled. It's weird to write about summer now, though!

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Six – Percy**

* * *

_The Burrow – 14th July – 18:38pm_

"So, it was a butterbeer for Bill, Charlie, Ron, Molly and Roxanne . . ." Percy said, scratching his head and trying to remember the complicated list of drinks orders he'd had the misfortune to collect. "And lemonade and Gillywater for Victoire, Mum, Ginny and Hermione . . ."

"Don't forget that Arthur wanted a butterbeer as well," said Teddy, who had come into the kitchen to help him sort out the drinks. "And Molly changed her mind and said she'd just have an apple juice. But your wife wants a lemonade and Gillywater as well, she says."

Percy sighed. "Right, so, that's five butterbeers and . . . oh, to heck with it. Grab as many glasses as you can, and stick 'em on here," he waved his wand and a tray appeared on the counter. "And then we'll get all the bottles in the house and put them on this tray," he waved his wand again and a second tray appeared on the counter. "We ought to take out the tomato sauce and things as well," he added.

Having a barbeque at the Burrow the day school finished was had become an annual Weasley family tradition, to which Andromeda and Teddy were also invited, that had begun seven years ago, when Ted had just completed his first year at Hogwarts, something that seemed a ridiculously long time ago in some respects, and barely five minutes ago in others.

But then, Teddy was having a strange day. Finishing school for good was one of the weirdest feelings in the world. He'd almost wanted to jump off the train at Hogsmeade platform and race back up to the school and refuse to leave it. And from speaking to the other seventh years, he knew he wasn't the only person who felt that way – everyone had felt a twinge of sadness and regret when they left the gates for the very last time, some more so than others. Two of the normally very coherent and intelligent girls he knew from Gryffindor had been unable to speak, they were sobbing so hard, and even some of the teachers appeared to be struggling to contain themselves (mind you, with some of them, he guessed that they were more tears of relief that they'd survived seven years of some of his more wild pranks . . . though he had tried to tone them down during the past year . . .).

" . . . eight, ten, twelve – no, that's not going to be enough: we're going to need many more glasses than that," Percy said. "Try the cupboard above the dresser, there should be some in there – no, not that one, the other—yes, that's it. Now let me see, I've got the fruit juices and the squash, there's the butterbeer cans over there . . . _accio_ . . . Gillywater's in the pantry and—Godric's sword! What on earth is Lucy wearing?"

Teddy glanced out of the window and tried not to snicker out loud. Percy Weasley's "baby" girl had removed her hoodie, and was revealing a white T Shirt with the words "Save a broom, ride a Quidditch player!" emblazoned on the front in bright neon lettering. Percy spluttered indignantly for a few moments (Teddy caught the words "inappropriate" and "girl of her age" and a few similar adages, and decided to keep quiet and not mention Molly's long term boyfriend, Evan Wood, or the fact that he'd overheard Lucy telling Victoire that the only reason she'd snogged that Hufflepuff fourth year last week had been to make Jeremy Finnegan jealous, in the hope that he'd notice her and dump "that complete cowbag Marissa Longbrige".)

"At least the only males present are ones she's related to," Percy said, with a sigh. "And you, of course. But you're with Victoire now, aren't you?"

"What? No! No, no, no. Merlin, no. No, no. No, it's nothing like that!" Teddy's eyes grew wide with alarm and he hastened to correct his almost-Uncle.

"Oh, Merlin, sorry!" exclaimed Percy, going almost as red as the young man he was addressing. "Sorry, I just thought that you two were . . . I mean that . . . well, obviously, I was definitely reading things the wrong way!"

"That's quite OK," Teddy said, still blushing furiously. "We're just friends - we're nothing like that at all," he added, not elaborating on whatever 'that' was. "I think we've got enough stuff for drinks now – let's take all this outside."

"Of course – I'll take this tray, and – yeah, you've got that one. Good. Well. Yes, then. Outside it is," Percy said, rather pompously, in an effort to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are those drinks done yet?" called a voice – it sounded like George's – from outside.

"Just coming now!" called back Teddy, leading the way back into the yard.

* * *

_The Burrow – 14th July – 21:03pm_

"Oh, you won't believe what happened earlier," Teddy muttered to Victoire. He'd followed her into the kitchen with some used plates, whilst the adults lolled about lazily in the warm July night, contentedly full and keeping half an eye on their children.

"What?" she murmured back.

"Percy was asking me whether we were going out or not," he said. Victoire looked at him in horror.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"No, of course," he replied. "He seemed to buy it, which I guess is a good thing."

"Mm-hmm," Victoire replied. "God. Urgh. How embarrassing, if Uncle Percy was to find out. God. He doesn't suspect anything, you say?"

"Nah, it's all OK," Teddy reassured her. "We don't have to face the whole Weasley contingent finding out and going completely over the top."

"Thank the Lord," Victoire replied, slipping back outside to pick up some more plates.

* * *

_Percy & Audrey Weasley's house – 14th July – 22:37pm_

"Molly?" Percy Weasley knocked on his sixteen year old daughter's bedroom door. She opened it, and he smiled at her. "Your mother asked me to give you this," he said, handing her a pile of washing.

"Thanks Dad," she said.

He turned to go, then hesitated. "Um, Molly," he began.

"Yeah, Dad?" she asked.

"You wouldn't happen to know if . . . that is, I don't suppose you would know about . . . what I mean is . . . Teddy and Victoire . . . are they together? I asked Ted earlier, but he was very insistent that there was nothing going on . . . and I suppose I must have been reading these things wrongly, but I could have sworn that they were . . . well, an item, you could say . . ."

Molly's first reaction was to snort loudly and ask her father what planet he had been living on that he'd managed to miss _that,_ because the pair of them were being so obvious it was almost painful to watch about their "secret" love affair (and it was pretty obvious if even her father had worked out what was going on between them . . .).

But she remembered that neither Ted nor Vic had told her Dad about her secret(ish) relationship with Evan Wood (she _was _going to tell her father, really she was. She'd just pick a time when she knew she might not have his full attention. When he was asleep, for instance), and she guessed she sort of owed them both for that one.

So she just blinked at her father with her most innocent face on and assured him that he must have been reading too much into these things, because as far as she was aware, they were only friends, nothing more, and she _did_ know both of them quiet well, so really, she was quite likely to know what was going on, and in the end he agreed that he was going over the top with his analysis of their behaviour, and perhaps he would go and speak to Lucy about that T Shirt she'd been wearing . . .

_But yeah,_ Molly wrote later, recounting the events in a letter to Evan, _if even **my Dad's** worked it out for Merlin's sake, then they've got a snowball's chance in hell of keeping this quiet . . ._


	7. Hermione

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** I meant to say last time – "save a broom, ride a Quidditch player" obviously isn't something I came up with – I stole it from one of the 10 million avi's out there with it on. But it's still a good motto to live by, don't'cha think? ;)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Seven - Hermione**

* * *

_Ron & Hermione's house – 16th July – 11:08am_

"Auntie Hermione?" Victoire Weasley knocked on the open back door, sticking her head inside her relatives' pretty cottage in the Yorkshire Dales. "Uncle Ron? Hugo? Rose?"

"Come on in, Victoire!" her aunt's voice called from deep inside the house. "I'm in my study!"

Victoire stepped inside, removed her shoes and placed them in the jumble of flip-flops, slippers and Wellingtons by the kitchen door, and went to find her aunt. She knocked on the study door, and opened it slowly. "Auntie Hermione?"

Her aunt looked up at her from behind the enormous pile of paperwork on her desk and smiled kindly. "Hello, Victoire," she greeted her niece. "How are you today?"

"I'm good, thanks," Victoire responded. "Glad school's out," she grinned. "How are you, and Uncle Ron and the kids?"

"Oh, we're all great, fine," Hermione said. "Ron's taken the kids out for the day to watch a Quidditch match – just one of the minor league ones, but I think he wants to get Rose onto one of the school teams, so he's hoping to encourage her by taking her to watch games all the time."

She rolled her eyes and Victoire giggled.

"I think he's hoping she'll be the next Harry – you know, first year and on the school team and all that. It's not going to happen – she's far more interested in books than balls. Er, as it were," Hermione added hastily.

"You wait a few years," Victoire teased. "That'll soon change! Though, I guess I should be happy – she's got the makings of a true Ravenclaw."

"Yes, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw," said Hermione. "It went for Gryffindor in the end though . . . who knows what it'll do with Rose?"

"Ravenclaw all the way," Victoire said firmly.

"Ah, wait and see," said Hermione. "You older girls . . . you will look after her, won't you?" she asked, serious for a moment.

"Of course we will," said Victoire, shocked that her aunt even had to ask. "We'll all keep an eye out for her and Al – and if she ends up in Gryffindor, well, she can go and talk to Roxanne and Dominique at all hour, or me and Molly if she ends up in Ravenclaw, or Lucy if she's in Hufflepuff. We'll be there for her in the middle of the night, and all that. If she ends up in Slytherin, well, that might be a bit of a problem regarding the late night chats, but we'll all still keep an eye out for her. Not that that's going to be an issue, of course," she joked.

"Of course," echoed Hermione. "Yes . . . I'm . . . yes. Goodness, listen to me! I'm all over the place, worrying about my little baby going off to school and it doesn't happen for another month and a half!"

"Don't worry – you're not the first mother to do so," Victoire reassured her. "And I'm positive you won't be the last."

"Of course not," Hermione said, although whether it was for Victoire's benefit or her own Victoire was unsure. "Anyway, lovely as it is to see you, did you just pop round to say hi, or was there something that you wanted?"

"Merlin, I'm so blonde sometimes – I'd completely forgotten!" Victoire said, shaking her head. "My Mum was sorting through our old school stuff, and she found this – it's a winter cloak that she brought for Dom, 'cause she'd outgrown my old one, but it only lasted her one winter, and to be honest, it's barely worn. She couldn't bring herself to throw it out, and she was wondering if you wanted it for Rose?" She pulled the item out of her bag, and Hermione studied it. "Don't worry if you don't – we can always pass it on to Lily, or put it out for charity or whatever, but she just thought that—"

"No, no, that'll be great!" Hermione said, taking the cloak off her niece. "Thanks so much – tell your Mum it'll be great. They're so expensive – and you're right, this is barely worn."

"That's great then," said Victoire. "I'll leave it with you."

"Yes, thank you very much," Hermione said. "Would you like to come through to the kitchen for a drink? I figured it's about time I had a break – I think I've got some lemonade somewhere," she offered.

"That'd be lovely," Victoire replied. They walked into the kitchen together, chatting aimlessly. One of the things that Victoire liked so much about her Auntie Hermione was that she always made time for her, no matter how busy she was, and she never talked down to her, or patronized her, even though she was one of the cleverest women Victoire had ever met.

"So, do you have any plans for the holiday?" Hermione asked. "You're going to France, aren't you?"

"Yes, just for a week – on the third of August," Victoire said. "To be honest, though, it's nice just to be at home, rather than at school."

"Yes, I always found that, when I was at school," Hermione commented, handing her a drink. "Nice to be in your own place for a while."

"Thanks," Victoire said, accepting the glass. "Yeah, you're right. What about you lot? Are you doing anything special? Going anywhere nice?"

"We already went late last month for three weeks," Hermione said.

"Oh, yes, of course – you went to Spain, right?" Victoire asked. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes and yes," Hermione replied. "It was lovely out there – not ridiculously hot, but still pleasant enough, and because we went early, there wasn't the awful crush of tourists around. And we managed to get it cheap, as well, because we were going off-peak," she added. "Are you hoping to do anything else this holiday, other than France, I mean?"

"Well, I don't know about the others, but I'm going to be working a lot of the time," Victoire said. "I need to start saving for medical school."

"Aren't your parents . . .?" Hermione drifted off.

"They're paying tuition fees," Victoire said. "But I've got to cover everything else – living costs and the like. It was my suggestion though – I can't be living off them for the rest of my life, and I've got to start somewhere."

"Yes, very sensible," Hermione said. "Good idea. So, what've you got lined up work-wise?"

"Well, I worked out a shift at the Fox and Goose – that's the muggle pub near Shell Cottage – so I'm doing Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday lunchtime shifts, and I put an advert in the Prophet a few days ago, advertising myself as a babysitter, and I've already had a good response from that, so things are looking good, I think," Victoire replied.

"Well, if Ron and I ever need someone to sit for us, you'll be our first port of call," Hermione assured her.

"Oh, I couldn't let you pay—"

"Nonsense, it's what family are for!" Hermione cut across her. "But that sounds OK – you'll still have plenty of time to do your own thing and still have money to spend."

"Yeah, that's what I thought – the lunchtime shift doesn't impinge too much on my social life, and it's not like I'll be spending every night babysitting," Victoire agreed.

"Yes – that'll leave you plenty of time to spend with Teddy," Hermione said. "How long have you two been together?"

Victoire chocked so hard on her lemonade it started to flow out of her nose, and Hermione had to bang her vigorously on the back. "We're not . . . it isn't . . . we aren't . . . nothing . . . Ted and I aren't . . ." she coughed out incoherently, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, right, I'm so sorry," Hermione apologised, handing her niece a handkerchief.

"Thanks," she spluttered. "No, we're nothing like that," she reiterated, once she was able to speak.

"Of course, I'm so sorry," Hermione said. "I just assumed . . . sorry. Sounds like I was way off the mark there." Victoire nodded, flame-cheeked, and left very rapidly, in a flurry of embarrassment.

* * *

_Beach outside Shell Cottage – 16th July – 3:18pm_

" . . . oh, and you know that thing that happened with Uncle Percy and you yesterday?" Victoire asked. "You know, when he guessed and everything?" Teddy nodded. "Well, the exact same thing happened today when I was at Auntie Hermione's." She grimaced.

"Ooh," he winced. "What happened?"

"Oh, I was just telling myself about my plans for the summer, and she said something like 'Oh, so you and Ted'll get to see a lot of each other – how long have you been together?' or something," Victoire said.

"And what did you say?" Teddy asked.

"Well, after I'd nearly choked to death on my drink I basically did what you did – wild denying – and she was just like 'Oh, sorry, I thought wrong, so sorry to have embarrassed you' and all that. I don't think she brought my story altogether, but I think I managed to convince her that I have a crush on you or something – she just thinks I fancy you, not that anything's going on, as it were," Victoire responded.

"Oh, good," Teddy said, sounding relieved. "I really think we've got to up the subtly stakes here."

"Yes," Victoire agreed. "But not _right_ now. I mean, we are alone and all . . ."

* * *

_Ron & Hermione's house – 16th July – 6:59pm_

" . . . oh, and Victoire came over whilst you were out today – she brought round a barely worn winter cloak we can use for Rose, which was nice of Bill and Fleur to let us have," Hermione said. Ron nodded his agreement. "Oh, and she tried to deny anything at all was going on between her and Ted."

"Something's going on between them?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_That_ one's been coming for years. But she went bright, bright red, protested _far_ too much when I questioned her about it and left about twelve seconds after I mentioned it, so it's pretty obvious they're together now. Not that we couldn't see _that_ one coming. They're more obvious than we were!"

"We were obvious?" Ron asked, teasing.

"Oh, shut up, Mr Weasley," Hermione teased back. He reached down and kissed his wife on the lips.

"Ew," said Hugo, entering the kitchen. "That's horrible. Can I have a biscuit?"

"No," said Hermione. "You should've had more vegetables at dinner time. It was only half an hour ago."

"But—"

"No buts, mister," Hermione said, looking severely at her son. "Vegetables are very good for you, and very filling." Teddy and Victoire were forgotten in the daily domestic cycle, as Hermione prepared to do battle with her stubborn son over broccoli. Why did Ron always seem to disappear during these moments?


	8. Harry and Lily II

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far – I really appreciate your comments! Please take the time to review fics – not just this one – as even a simple "I liked this!" or "Can't wait to see what happens next!" can really make an author's day! :)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Eight – Harry and Lily II**

* * *

_Harry & Ginny Potter's house – 19th July – 4:27pm_

"Hey, Lily-lou," Harry Potter swept into the dining room behind his eight year old daughter, who was sat at the table, building a house of cards, and picked her up.

"Da-ad," she moaned, wriggling. He placed her gently back in her chair.

"Fine, if that's the way it's going to be . . .!" he stuck his nose in the air, folded his arms and looked away. Lily laughed at her father's antics, and then shrieked in fear as the house of cards exploded, nearly setting fire to her eyebrows, burying her face in her father's arm.

"Oh, Lily," he said, giving her a hug. "Did you build your house with exploding snap cards?" She nodded woefully.

"Dear, dear, dear, dear," he said, shaking his head. "Still, best get this cleaned up before Mummy sees, hmm?" With a sweep of his wand, the pile of ashes on the table vanished, and the dining room was once again spotless. _Well, maybe not spotless_ Harry thought to himself, surveying the inevitable chaos that came with living with three still relatively young children, _but at least it no longer looks as though a pyromaniac lives here_.

"Daddy," Lily whined. "I'm _bored_. There's no one to play with."

"Of course there is," he said. "You've got your brothers, and—"

"They went to play Quidditch with Fred and Louis," she said. "And they wouldn't let me come because they said I was a baby." Her voice trembled with indignation. "And because I was a girl!"

Harry made a mental note to speak to his two sons privately, later. "You know why I think they wouldn't let you play?" he asked. Lily shook her head dolefully. "It's because you're too good for them. They're scared you'll beat them. In fact, they _know_ you'll beat them, and they're too embarrassed to play you."

"Really?" Lily asked, wide eyed.

"Really," Harry said seriously. "But forget about them – why don't you go and see Hugo and Rose? Or the Salamanders?"

"Silly Daddy," Lily said. "It's the _Sca_manders," she corrected him.

"Oh yes, of course it is," Harry said.

"But they're on holiday, looking for the crumply . . . the crumple horned snackpack, or something ridiculous," she told him gravely. "And Hugo and Rose have gone to Lancashire for the day to visit their Grandma and Grandad Granger. So I can't go over there. And I'm all alone. I wanted to play with Mummy," she said. "But Mummy said she couldn't play now, because she has to write an article or the deadline man will be cross."

"Well, you could always help me," Harry suggested. "I've got an enormous load of peas to pod for dinner, and then I think there's a leaky pipe somewhere that needs fixing, and I'll always need someone to pass me my hammers. Do you think you could do that?" Lily nodded. "Come on, then," he said. "Let's get started with these peas."

He handed his daughter a large bowl, and watched affectionately as she carried it out oh-so-carefully into the garden, placing it gently on the steps, and waited for him to come and join her with the bag of peas.

"Here we go," he said, placing the bag between them and joining her on the step. "Lots of peas for prodding."

"Podding," Lily corrected. "Honestly, Daddy, you don't know how to talk very well, do you?" He tried to hide his chuckle.

"I guess I don't," he said, making a start. "So, tell me about your day, Lily-lou."

"Well, this morning when I woke up I was very hungry," Lily launched into her tale immediately. "So I had cornflakes _and_ toast for breakfast." _If nothing else, she seems to have inherited the Weasley stomach_ Harry thought, grinning at her.

"And then we had to go to Diagon Alley, because we needed to get Albus's school clothes. Well, we got his winter cloak at least, and that was boring because I just had to stand in the shop by myself, but there was a magazine and I read that to myself, but it wasn't a very exciting one – it was mostly just women in dresses. And shoes. There were a lot of shoes in it. So I was quite bored. But Mummy said I was good, so when we picked James up from Uncle George and Auntie Angelina's, we went to the ice cream shop, and we had a sandwich and Mummy let us choose what ice cream to have, and I had chocolate one, with a flake in it," Lily's monologue continued.

"Did you have chocolate sprinkles on the top as well?" asked Harry. Lily nodded enthusiastically. "That's the best – that's my favourite ice cream."

"It's mine too!" Lily said, nearly up ending the bowl of peas in her excitement.

"Careful!" Harry said, catching it before irreparable damage could be done to their dinner. "Anyway, what did you do this afternoon?"

"I went to Teddy's," Lily said. "Mummy let me floo by myself. And that was fun. Victoire was there, and she let me plat her hair, and then she did mine, look!" She pointed at her plats.

"Very lovely," Harry said.

"And then I came back, and James and Albus were going out and said that I couldn't come with them." Her face fell. "That wasn't very nice."

"No, it wasn't," Harry agreed, reminding himself to speak to his sons later. "But tell me about going to Teddy's – that must've been nice," he encouraged, not wanting his daughter to dwell on the lower points of her day.

"Yeah, it was fun," Lily said, lapsing into silence. "Daddy?" she asked, after a pause.

"Yes, sweetie?" he asked.

"You and Mummy . . . are in love . . . which is different to loving each other, because when you're in love, you kiss the person you're in love with on the lips, right?" Lily asked.

"Yes, that's right," Harry answered, wondering where his daughter was going with this.

"Well," Lily said. "You and Mummy kiss on the lips, because you love each other," she said, and Harry nodded. "And Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron do, because they're married, and even Grandma and Grampie do, but what about Teddy and Victoire? I saw them kissing, so are they in love?"

Harry looked at his daughter, who was giving him a very serious look across the bowl of peas, and launched into a fifteen minute explanation about 'changing bodies', 'new feelings' and 'when and boy and a girl grow up . . .' before realising firstly that Lily had no idea what he was talking about, secondly that he wasn't actually answering her question and thirdly, when it came to talking to their children about puberty, he would arrange for Ginny sort things, whilst he went on a very important mission to Thailand or somewhere equally far away, so he wasn't around for any awkward questions.

A thought struck him.

"Lily, when you saw Teddy and Victoire together, what did they say to you?"

"Well, they went really red and got all embarrassed, and they said that I shouldn't tell anyone. They said it had to be a secret, and that I couldn't tell anyone. They kept saying that. A lot. But I don't say why don't. Is it because of what Uncle Bill said, about if Vic or Dom got a boyfriend, and he would rip—"

"Eh, yes, I should imagine that that _might_ have had something to do with things," Harry cut in hastily. "However, I think you should keep their secret, if that's what they've asked you to do."

"Why?" Lily asked.

"Well, they obviously trust you enough to let you in on what's going on, so you should show them that you deserve their trust," Harry explained. _Or_ _you just walked in at a really, really awkward time_. "And plus, you know a secret that your brothers don't know!"

Lily's face lit up. "That's right!" she exclaimed.

"So, you shouldn't say anything to them. But next time you see Teddy, will you ask him something for me?" Harry asked. His daughter nodded. "Say to him, 'Harry says, have you told Bill yet?'. Let me know his response."

"Of course I will," Lily replied seriously.


	9. Bill

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** I didn't intend to have Bill Weasley come up so quickly, but sometimes the characters just get a mind of their own :P Sorry for the delay – I had some stuff on. Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews :)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Nine – Bill **

* * *

_Shell Cottage – 23rd July – 6:12pm_

When Fleur had told her husband, back in April, that she had to spend some time in Switzerland during the second week of the kids' summer holidays because of her work in the International Department at the bank, and she was unable to rearrange it, he had smiled benignly at her and told her not to fret. Honestly, he was _Bill Weasley_. He had spent his twenties fighting the toughest curses known to wizarding kind in Egypt, and then, on his return to England, Dark Wizards and of course Lord Voldemort in the second wizarding war.

His own job at the bank always required the utmost diplomacy with his dealings with the goblins, and there had been more than one occasion when things had become rather nasty, and he'd ended up in St. Mungos, with bright green tentacles sticking out of the top of his head, or something equally as embarrassing. He still did some curse breaking as well, and although the curses were not as severe as the ones found in Egypt, the slightest errors could result in very nasty consequences – most notably, that time when he'd woken up to find . . . well, he really didn't want to go into it. Suffice to say, though, his job didn't just involve sitting in an office and counting money.

Then there was the fact that he was the oldest of seven children raised by the indomitable Molly Weasley. He'd seen his mother go through the whole teenage thing with six other kids, and he'd sometimes ended up mediating between the twins and their mother, when the three of them had been arguing exceptionally badly. He'd had experience of teenagers. How hopeless did his wife think he was?

Fleur had smiled in a rather worried way, and assured him that, if she could possibly, _possibly _rearrange things, she would. In the event, she hadn't been able to, and so, four days previously, she'd left for Switzerland, with an enormous suitcase and a slight feeling of foreboding in her heart. It wasn't that she didn't think her husband would be able to cope with their three kids for four days and three nights . . . except that it totally was.

And in the end, it had been Bill who had been wrong, and his wife who had been right, as usual.

On the first day that she left, Victoire and Dominique had gotten into a massive argument about something (he had no idea what), and he'd ended the day yelling at both of them and sending them both to their rooms as though they were five again.

He'd gone to bed, thinking that if his wife had been here, she'd not only have known what was going on between them, she'd have fixed things so that neither of them were angry at each other anymore, and the issue would never arise again, and probably managed to secure world peace whilst she was at it. As it was, he'd risen with trepidation the following morning, fully expecting to spend another day from keeping his daughters from tearing each others' hair out, and attempting to complete a report on the latest treasures that had come in from Argentina, whilst preventing sororicide.

Hearing raised female voices, he made his way wearily down to the kitchen, whereupon he found his two girls, united for once, in their common mission against their brother, who had somehow managed to trick both girls into using a shampoo that had turned their hair green (Bill made a mental note to advise George not to let his son have too many Wheezes' product, else he'd be the one scraping Louis's remains off the carpet). The pair of them had not forgiven him and spent the rest of the day hexing and jinxing him, and Louis had responded in equal measure, so by the end of the second day, the house looked as though a _reducto _curse had hit it.

On the third day of his wife's trip, Molly, Lucy and Roxanne had come over in the morning which resulted in long periods of shrieking punctuated by peals of laughter, and almost as soon as they'd gone, James and Freddie had come round, which resulted in periods of prolonged silence punctuated with the odd loud bang and cry of shock. Somehow, this was much more terrifying than a gaggle of over excitable teenage girls.

There had, amazingly, been no arguments that day – indeed, the end of the day was positively peaceful with a delicious spaghetti bolognaise cooked by Victoire, and a late evening game of Quidditch (Dominique and himself vs. Victoire and Louis – he and Dom were alright, Louis was pretty good and Victoire was hopeless so they were pretty evenly matched).

All the same, he was looking forward to his wife coming home – obviously, because he missed her, but also because every little thing with the kids became ten times as stressful when she wasn't there to handle things.

* * *

The owl arrived at around half past seven on the morning of the twenty third, and Bill recognised his wife's handwriting with a sinking feeling. _This_ _cannot be good_, he thought, opening the letter.

**Bill—**

**The man I was supposed to be meeting yesterday came down with food poisoning, so we had to postpone our meeting until today. To cut a long story short, this, and various other things that depended on this, mean that I won't be home until late this evening (they wanted me to stay for a fifth day, but I told them I had to be home by tomorrow). I'll be in around nine thirty/ten o'clock tonight. I'm sure you're coping well, though. **

**Give my love to the children, & please ask Victoire and Dominique if one of them took my pink top from my suitcase – I'm sure I packed it.**

**I miss you.**

**All my love,**

**Fleur xx**

He sighed and rolled over. Today was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

It hadn't been that bad, he reflected, at six o'clock that evening. Everyone was still alive, with all the correct limbs in all the correct places, which was a definite bonus.

Except . . .

Except, he really wanted to know what was going on with Victoire. She'd been so . . . _good_ all day, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what was going on. In the morning, she'd been sunny and cheerful (which, in a normal person, wouldn't have been something worth commenting on, Bill supposed, but given his daughter's usual surliness in the mornings, it was on a par with Fleur waking up ugly, or Harry not being famous), sorting out the stuff for breakfast and fixing and argument between Dominique and Louis (he'd somehow managed to turn her hair green _again,_ and she'd been ready to kill him, but Victoire had somehow managed to smooth out the whole situation without it resulting in World War Three). She'd spent the rest of the morning cleaning and dusting the house (_without being asked!!)_ and then made everyone lunch.

In the afternoon, she'd gone out into the garden, taking her school books and several stacks of parchment, and had worked through the afternoon, disappearing inside at around four o'clock. There were bath running-sounds coming from the bathroom, and then pretty much silence coming from upstairs.

Some people would say that that was a good thing. A perfectly behaved daughter, who cooks, cleans and makes herself scarce when she's not doing something useful. Anybody who said that would not have been someone who had had children. Perfect behaviour plus near silence always equalled Up To Something.

The question was, what?

He'd left his office (Shell Cottage had been extended over the years, rather like the Burrow, to cope with children, and both his and Fleur's need to work from home sometimes) and wandered into the kitchen, spotting his younger daughter cooking. "Hey, Dom, smells good," he said. "What you got cookin'?"

She pulled a face. "Just reheating something Maman left," she said. "I'm not much of a cook, and Vic isn't around to help today."

"Where's she gone?" he asked.

"Nowhere, yet," she replied. "But she's heading off later with—oh, here she is now. You can ask her yourself." He turned and saw his eldest daughter in the doorway.

"Wow, Victoire, that's almost a skirt you've got on!" he commented dryly. His daughter made a face at him.

"It's fine, Dad. It's just the light that makes it look shorter," she dismissed, tugging on the hem a little. He raised an eyebrow.

"The light?" he asked. "And anyway, where do you think you're going?"

"Out?" she tried.

"Out? With whom?" he asked.

"Oh, just a bunch of people from school," Victoire said. "Remember my friend Beth? And Molly, of course. And . . . you know the Woods, right? Evan, and Jess, his twin. And . . . um . . . Beth's boyfriend, and . . . just some general people, really."

"How many boys will there be?" he demanded.

"Relax, Dad," she said. "We're just going for a barbeque on the beach. Most of the boys already have girlfriends. And anyway, Teddy's coming, he'll make sure no one gets their hands on me, I'm sure!" she said. Behind him, Dominique appeared to be chocking on something. He turned around and asked her if she was OK.

"Fine, fine," she said, rather blithely.

"Well, just as long as—" he began, addressing Victoire, but was cut off by a knock on the kitchen door, and they looked up to see Teddy. "Ah, Mr. Lupin," he said. "I'd like to request that you keep an eye on Victoire tonight." He narrowed his eyes.

"Of course I will," said Teddy, winking at Victoire, who smiled and looked away, as though remembering some private joke.

"Now, young lady, we really need to discuss that skirt – or lack of it," Bill began. He was interrupted by a loud shriek from behind him, and a great crash as Dominique and the three plates she'd been carrying, crashed to the floor in a heap of broken cutlery and tangled limbs. "Great Merlin, Dom! Be careful! Are you OK?" he helped her to her feet, and demanded to see her hand, which she was holding tenderly as she sobbed loudly. It was bleeding, though not badly, and he hurried to find their first aid box.

"We'll just be going then," Victoire said.

"I—yes, whatever. Don't be out too late," he said distractedly. He didn't turn around as she and Teddy left, which was probably a good thing, as he'd have seen Dominique's wink directed towards her sister, Victoire mouth "thank you" and Dominique mouth "you owe me" back at her.

All the same, though, he couldn't help thinking, once the kitchen was back to it's usual state, he wished he knew what the joke was between his eldest daughter and a certain Mr. Lupin. There was definitely _something_ going on between them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what . . .


	10. Ginny

**DISCLAIMER:** Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley and all the other Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling, not me; no copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** _le gasp_ An update! And I only updated yesterday! *_is shocked_* Thank you for the reviews! :)

* * *

**The Art of Being Subtle**

**Chapter Ten - Ginny**

* * *

_Ministry of Magic – 26th July – 9:17am_

"You will not _believe _what happened this morning," Ginny Potter said, walking into Hermione's office at the Ministry and handing her one of two paper cups of coffee.

"Thanks," Hermione said, accepting the coffee. "And what? Make it quick – I've got a meeting with the Minister in fifteen minutes."

"Ooh, get you, Ms. Fancy-pants," Ginny teased. Hermione pretended to flick her hair about and preen. "Anyway – you know the phrase déjà vu? I finally got what they mean by it this morning."

"Oh? Do tell," Hermione said.

"You remember when—well, you remember me telling you about the unfortunate incident with the butter dish when I was eleven? And how, previous to that I'd yelled at my mother for not warning me that _Harry Potter_ was downstairs in the kitchen, and I'd walked down in just my nightdress?" she asked. Hermione nodded. "Actually – I'd like to amend my statement: it wasn't déjà vu I felt – it was a full blown flashback being played out before my very eyes."

"Don't tell me – all the bludgers you got knocked on the head with during your Quidditch career suddenly asserted themselves, and you temporarily forgot you were married to Harry and had an eleven year old fangirl moment when you walked into the kitchen this morning?" Hermione deadpanned.

"Oh, ha ha," Ginny said. "No, the story is much better than that. It all begins a very long time ago – last night in fact."

"Was it a dark and stormy night?" Hermione asked.

"No, of course not. It was quite warm and very pleasant – or is it _your_ memory that's starting to go?" Ginny teased.

"My memory's fine, thank you," Hermione replied. "I was just trying to introduce some pathetic fallacy to the story. But anyway, do continue."

"Well, Harry and I had to go to one of those god-awful conventions that he was supposed be speaking at in his capacity as saviour of the wizarding world, or whatever," she pulled a face. "So I asked Victoire round to babysit the kids for me, and she agreed, and I suggested to her that she stayed over at ours, to save disturbing her parents when she got back in. So that was the plan – she'd sit for us, then spend the night on a camp bed in Lily's room and blah blah. Anyway, the sitting went fine, except for an unfortunate incident with James and some unidentifiable gloop he'd managed – Merlin only knows how the kid does it – to spread all over her clothes, and it was impossible to remove with just a cleaning spell."

Hermione frowned. "What's this got to do with your—"

"I'm getting there," Ginny said. "Anyway, I couldn't get the mess of her clothes, or her pyjamas, and it was nearly midnight by that point, so I just gave her one of my old nighties, and she went to bed. In the morning, I was up early, and I decided to let her sleep in for a bit, 'cause she deserved it and all, and anyway, I was busy getting Albus ready and sorted – he was going out with Ted and Rose to the Quidditch today, as you know. Anyway, Teddy stopped by at about eight, and Al was just finishing his toast, so I got Teddy to just wait in the kitchen for a bit, as you do, but then, who should come downstairs but—"

"Oh, no," Hermione said, cringing and laughing at the same time.

"Oh, yes," nodded Ginny. "Who should come down in my old maternity nightdress whilst Teddy is munching his way through half a wheat field's worth of toast but Victoire Weasley."

"And did she squeak in embarrassment, go redder than a tomato and rush back upstairs?" Hermione asked.

"Something like that," Ginny replied, with a grin. "I bundled Ted and Al out the door – well, chimney, but you get the idea – and went upstairs to deal with her. She'd buried her face in the pillow and said that she'd about _died_ of embarrassment and _why_ hadn't someone told her that _he_ was going to be there . . . and on and on. I refrained from pointing out that she'd been asleep, so I hadn't actually been able to talk to her about anything at all only because I realised that, had I done so, I would have actually turned into my mother, as that's exactly what she said to me, however many years ago it was . . ."

"Weird for you to be on the other side of things," Hermione commented.

"Just a bit," Ginny said. "But I explained to her about the whole thing happening with me and Harry all those years ago, and said that I'd ended up _married_ to him, so these things didn't always matter."

"What did Victoire say?" Hermione asked.

"She laughed, sort of, and stopped looking as though the world had ended. She apologised for going off the deep end, saying that she hadn't expected her boyfriend to be there, seeing her in her Aunt's old maternity nightie," Ginny said. "And I said, 'Oh, next time I'll be sure to lend you something small and lacy—wha?! Boyfriend?'" Hermione laughed. "And then she did a major double-back on that – I thought she was going to try to obliviate my memory she was in such a panic, but I was all 'Come on, you can tell your Auntie Ginny all about your _boyfriend_' . . . she didn't buy it though."

"What we need," Hermione said, "is good, solid proof. I mean, we have our suspicions, but technically she could argue that she just has a crush on him, and is imagining the day she'll be able to say that he's her boyfriend and it'll be true—"

"Yeah, yeah, we're not in a court of law now," Ginny teased. "But seriously, we're unlikely to get—oh, Merlin! I'm so dense sometimes!" She smacked her forehead. "The other day I was walking past as Harry was putting Lily to bed, and she said to him, 'Don't worry Daddy – I won't tell anyone about Teddy and Victoire snoggling!'."

"Snoggling, eh?" Hermione asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Indeed," Ginny deadpanned, then the two women burst into giggles. "Now, I know you're not a gambling person, and neither am I," Ginny said. "But five galleons on her parents finding out before the end of the holiday."

"I'm not taking a bet that I know I'm going to lose," Hermione replied scornfully. "However, if you happen to be there when Bill finds out, do bring me round to watch the show, won't you?"

"Only if you promise to let me see Ron's face when Rose brings home her first boyfriend," Ginny said.

"Deal," replied Hermione.


End file.
